


They Never Learn

by Disasteriffic_Kaz



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-10
Updated: 2013-01-10
Packaged: 2017-11-24 09:15:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/632795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Disasteriffic_Kaz/pseuds/Disasteriffic_Kaz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Caught between an angry creature and a bad guy, Sam becomes an unwilling pawn. Set post 1x04 "Phantom Traveler" hurt!sam Written from a prompt for Janice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	They Never Learn

**Author's Note:**

> Title: They never learn
> 
> Author: Disasteriffic Kaz
> 
> Author's Note: The lovely Janice asked real nice for this one. With luck you'll all enjoy it too and you know, any excuse to whump on Sam…I'm game. Lol
> 
> Janice's prompt: I just reread The Dead Who Groan Within, since it had been a long time, and I just wanted to comment that the kidnapping scene with the bad guy using…threatening Sam to keep Dean in line is still awesome, and you should reuse that idea again because it's been a while and, you know, stuff like that NEVER gets old!

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Sam groaned as his back hit the wall and he slid to the floor. "Ow." He waved a hand at his brother to let him know he was alright and climbed back to his feet. "Silver's not working!"

"No shit, Sherlock!" Dean yelled in irritation and dodged a swipe of claws from the creature currently trying to eviscerate them. He pulled a flask of holy water from his jacket and splashed it on the furred maw as it gaped open at him. It shook its head but was otherwise unfazed. "Scratch that too."

"Iron!" Sam picked up a nearby piece of wood and threw it at the creature's back, distracting it. Dean gave him a look and he shrugged. "Well it's the only thing we haven't tried yet."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Yeah, and the only thing we didn't bring with us." He kicked a paw away and waved an arm. "Go on. I'll keep big ugly busy."

"Don't get chewed on." Sam turned and sprinted for the door. They weren't even sure what the thing was. They had stumbled across it chasing down what they thought was a Werewolf. It was big, furred, razor teeth and disturbingly long talons and apparently, very bad tempered. Killing it was proving to be an issue. He shoved out of the warehouse and ran around the corner to the Impala, sliding to a stop at the trunk and fumbled the keys into the lock. He wrenched it up and reached in. He froze as he heard a scuff behind him. A second later pain exploded in the back of his skull and everything faded into darkness.

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Dean ducked behind a column as the creature rushed him again and grinned as it ran headlong into the metal. The sound reverberated through the empty warehouse and the creature staggered back and away in a daze.

"That sounded like it hurt." Dean snorted and looked toward the door and then at his watch. Sam had been gone close to ten minutes. "How the hell long does it take to load a damn gun, Sammy?" He growled and checked the location of their quarry. It was stumbling toward the back of the warehouse, momentarily ignoring him. "Ok." He turned and ran for the door, pushing outside.

"Sam, if you're screwin around out here I'm gonna kick your ass!" Dean called and jogged around the side of the building. He slowed to a stop with a frown. The trunk of the Impala was hanging open and his brother wasn't there. "Sam?"

"Dean."

Dean spun at the sound of Sam's voice, an angry comment on his lips. It instantly evaporated at the sight that met him. A strange man stood with his back to the wall of warehouse and Sam held in front of him. He held a gun just beneath Sam's jaw and in the other hand a short knife; the point pressing into his brother's throat.

"Easy, big guy." The man smiled thinly.

Dean took an involuntary step forward and the knife pressed in. Sam gave a short gasp as blood began to well and run down his neck.

"Uh uh. Keep walkin' and he's dead." The man raised his brows and nodded when Dean froze. "Good boy."

"Sammy? You ok?" Dean asked softly. Sam looked…off somehow. His eyes seemed glazed and slow to track to him but he nodded.

"Yeah." Sam worked to speak clearly. His head was still spinning and pounding and his face burned with embarrassment over being captured so easily. "M'alright."

"What'd you do to him?" Dean demanded and pointed. "He looks like he's gonna fall over."

"Hit him a little too hard maybe but come on." The man waved in front of Sam with the knife. "He's a giant. Can you blame me?" He chuckled darkly and shrugged. "Well I guess you can."

"What the hell do you want?" Dean itched to reach for the gun at his back. The bullets were silver but they'd still do the job. He was close enough. He resisted the urge.

"To have a little quality time with the thing in there before you kill it." The man smiled again. "See? I'm reasonable."

"What the hell for?" Dean watched the weapons but had his eyes on Sam's who still seemed somewhat out of it. It was worrying him.

"Well as it happens that little piece of nastiness in there has a few interesting properties." The man placed the knife more firmly against Sam's neck, seeming to sense Dean's rising frustration. "Give it a blood sacrifice and it can summon the dead."

"Summon the…" Dean shook his head. "What the hell would you want that for?"

"I've been hunting one of these things for years and why I want it is none of your damn business. Now." He pressed the gun harder into Sam's jaw, forcing his head over with a grunt. "What do you say we all have a nice little walk inside? I don't have to kill anyone. I just need a little…donation." He grinned. "How much pain I cause this guy getting it is up to you." He pricked Sam's throat again, drawing another line of blood. "Can we play nice?"

Dean growled and clenched his fists. "Use your own."

"Why would I when you two so conveniently wandered into my path?" The man nodded toward the warehouse. "Start walking."

"Get bent." Dean spat back at him.

Sam looked over to his brother and nodded slightly. He wasn't going to be the hostage in this situation any longer. The spinning in his head finally subsided. Sam swung back and slammed his elbow into the man's stomach as he grabbed the gun hand with his other arm.

Dean lurched forward and stopped as quickly as an agonized shout left Sam's mouth.

"Stop!" The man yelled at Dean as he slowly drove the point of his knife into Sam's shoulder. The gun was steady at his temple and the hammer clicked back in warning. He glared over at Dean. "Get…back." He pushed the knife harder and Sam suddenly dropped to his knees with a short cry.

Sam gasped in a breath as he felt the knife scrape across his collarbone and into the meat of his shoulder.

"You son of a bitch!" Dean shouted and suffered watching Sam suffer.

"You two done playing hero?" The man asked angrily. He jerked the knife back of Sam's shoulder and pressed it under his jaw. "Up. Get up. Now or I'll help you."

Sam gritted his teeth against the pain and struggled to his feet, swaying slightly in the man's grip. "You don't…have to do this. Please."

"Have to? No. Want to?" The man grinned across at Dean. "Oh yeah. Walk. Don't make me ask again."

Dean stared him down for a moment and started walking slowly back to the warehouse. He turned so he could watch as the man shoved Sam into a stumbling walk, the knife and gun never leaving their positions. "You hurt him again and I kill you." Dean promised darkly.

The man smirked. "Well I'm gonna have to hurt him at least one more time. Blood donation, remember? Keep moving. Get the door."

Dean growled again and turned back to the warehouse. He pulled the door open and stepped inside ahead of them. He backed up, giving them room as he saw the knife once more pressing into Sam's throat.

"Keep going." The man ordered.

Sam was pale and sweating and fighting to stay on his feet. His shoulder was consumed with a white hot pain. He raised a hand toward it and hissed as the knife came back to rest on his shoulder.

"Hands down, beanpole." The man ordered in his ear. "I can make this hurt a lot worse."

"Who….who the hell are you?" Sam managed between clenched teeth as the followed Dean into the warehouse.

"Oh just a concerned citizen with a plan." He chuckled. "Don't worry. I get what I want you two can go on your merry way."

"That's crap and we both know it." Sam retorted in the sure knowledge that this man was going to kill them if they didn't get him first.

"Sammy? Stop talking to senor psychopath." Dean warned and stopped where he'd last seen the creature. He could hear it back in the darkness prowling. "Ok now what?"

"You get to play bait and get it out here." The man grinned at him. "While I borrow a little of Sammy boys blood."

"It's Sam." Sam said angrily.

Dean's jaw clenched at the man using his brother's name like that. "He dies. You die. That's a promise. He dies and you got nothin' to keep me in check and trust me, you don't want me with no leash right now."

The man stared into Dean's eyes for a moment and then blinked. After a moment, he nodded. "I'm beginning to get that." He waved the knife toward the back of the warehouse. "Go get it." He put the blade back to Sam's shoulder and slid the point back into the wound he'd already made.

Sam dropped to his knees and choked on the cry that wanted to escape. He wasn't going to give him the satisfaction this time. He raised a hand as Dean took an angry step toward them. "Dean, just…do it." He stared up at his brother, willing him to understand that they had to bide their time; wait for him to make a mistake.

Dean saw the message clearly and gave a short nod. "Ok, Sammy. Ok." He managed a small smile for him; his way of saying 'keep your cool. I've got this.' And turned away with a curse.

Sam watched him go and closed his eyes, sobbing a few breaths in and out as the blade was pulled out again. He groaned as the man slid the gun under his chin and used it to force his head back.

"Now, you just sit nice and still for me." The man knelt behind him and roughly yanked Sam's jacket off his left arm. The motion drove pain into that shoulder and he clenched his jaw to keep from crying out. "Good boy." Sam felt the metal of the blade against the skin of his inner arm as the cold air raised goose bumps in the flesh. "This might pinch a little." Sam couldn't hold back the gasp as pain flared bright and fresh with the drag of the knife blade down his arm from bicep to wrist.

"Asshole!" Sam gasped and flinched away from the knife as blood washed down his arm and hand to pool on the floor. "Gonna enjoy…watching Dean…hurt you."

The man chuckled and leaned down next to his ear. "What makes you think I'm gonna give him the chance, Sammy boy?" He flashed the gun in front of his face. "He dies before you do. I'm not an idiot." Sam jerked as his brother ran back into sight. "Easy. Make a sound and I'll just off him now."

"You bastard." Sam growled and gasped as the blade went back into his shoulder. He stared at Dean as he drew to a stop a few feet away with the creature trundling angrily behind. There was no time. He wasn't going to watch his brother be shot because of him. "Dean!" Sam shouted. He grabbed the gun with his good hand and wrenched it down toward the floor. He jerked as it went off, the sound echoing in the warehouse but kept his grip.

"Sammy!" Dean lunged forward as Sam took the gun and pulled the man half over his right shoulder. He saw Sam twist the gun out of his hand and Dean charged. He tackled the man backward off his brother and rolled across the floor with him. He wrestled him back to the floor and grunted in pain when the man's knee slammed into his stomach. "Son of a bitch." Dean was rolled to his back and growled up as the man slammed his shoulders into the cement floor.

"Should have…done what I said." The man glared down at him. He pulled a second knife from his belt and raised it up. Gunfire sounded again, multiple shots and the man jerked above him. Blood puffed out from his chest in a cloud and he toppled forward with a surprised look on his face to roll across the floor.

"Holy crap." Dean pushed himself up beside the dead man and looked over. "Sammy?" He scrambled over to Sam where he swayed on his knees. A few feet beyond him the creature lay in a heap.

Sam raised the gun wearily and let it fall to the floor as Dean came over to him and smiled. "Iron rounds." He told Dean and chuckled softly. He closed his eyes as Dean reached him and put gentle hands on his shoulders.

"Nice job, dude." Dean took in the long bleeding slash on his left arm and stared, shocked at the knife standing out from his shoulder.

"Get it out." Sam said, almost a plea.

"Ok. Easy buddy." Dean sat back and took his jacket off. He stripped his flannel off and quickly tore it into strips. "Get you patched up and out of here." Sam only nodded, too busy trying not to pass out to speak anymore. Dean carefully wrapped up the slice on his arm. He wound the flannel from shoulder to wrist and tied it off. "That'll do til we get back to the motel."

"Gonna…pass out." Sam looked up at him with pain filled eyes and smiled sorry. "When you yank it. Sorry."

"No prob." Dean shrugged and smiled at him. "Not the first time I've had to lug your gigantor ass around." He wadded up more of the flannel and hovered his hand over the hilt. "Ready?" Sam nodded again. Dean took hold and pulled it out in one fluid movement. Sam cried out hoarsely and toppled forward. "Shit!" Dean caught him against his chest as he collapsed and held on to him. "Ok, Sammy." He pressed the flannel pad over the wound and went about the awkward task of wrapping the last strip of flannel around his shoulder to hold it in place. When he was done he tunneled one hand into his brother's mop of hair and just sat for a moment.

"Too close, Sam. That was too damn close." Dean said softly and let himself shake once, hard. He glanced back at the dead man and felt only satisfaction. "Alright. I gotcha." Dean stood, going around behind him and wrapped his arms under Sam's shoulders and around his chest. He dragged his little brother away from the dead man and the dead creature they still had no name for. He grunted with the effort of getting him over the step up to the door and was panting with exertion by the time they reached the car.

"Dude…you weigh a ton." Dean told his insensible brother and opened the passenger door. He man-handled Sam up into the seat and pulled the seatbelt across him to hold him up. "Don't go anywhere." He went back to the trunk and took out the salt and lighter fluid before jogging back to the warehouse. Grimly, he pulled the dead man over to the creature. He poured salt and lighter fluid over both and stood back.

"Shouldn't have screwed with my family, jackass." Dean took out a book of matches, lit it and dropped them onto the bodies. He turned his back and left them smoldering in the gloom.

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Sam huffed a breath in irritation as Dean shoved him back onto the bed. "Dude I'm not broken."

"Shut up, Sammy." Dean grinned and handed him the bottle of water he'd been getting up for. "You keep getting up and screw up my stitches I will cart your ass to the nearest hospital." He gestured to Sam's left arm, mummified in bandages and covered sixty-three stitches in all. He swatted his good shoulder. "Move over."

Sam rolled his eyes and scooted to the other side of the bed slowly; careful of his bandaged shoulder. It took more energy than he wanted to admit. "Fine."

Dean dropped onto the bed and leaned against the wall before grabbing the remote and flicking the television on. He reached down to the cooler he'd shoved over by the bed and took two beers out. "Be a good boy and you can have a grown up drink."

Sam snorted with amusement and took the beer Dean held out with his good hand. "You have issues. You know that right?"

Dean gave him a crooked smile and clinked his beer against Sam's. "Says the guy who used to play with a glitter baton."

"What?" Sam elbowed him. "Your dumb ass gave me that for Christmas!"

"Yeah and you played with it." Dean shrugged. "Can't argue with truth, Sammy."

"Bite me, Dean." Sam laughed and let himself settle in the bed as whatever movie Dean had chosen started.

"Shut up and drink your beer bitch." Dean smiled, comforted to have his little brother next to him and mostly in one piece to be irritated.

"Jerk." Sam tossed back.

Dean smiled again and relaxed as Bruce Willis came on screen; sitting on a plane and being told to scrunch his bare toes into a carpet after they land. "That works you know."

Sam snorted. "Only you would identify with McClane over fear of flying instead of general bad-assery."

Dean shrugged. "I'm a way better bad-ass."

Sam laughed but didn't answer. He agreed.

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_The End._

**Author's Note:**

> Do please Review once you've read. :D Every comment and vote of support helps keep me writing. Not to mention if I've pooched anything, someone can always tell me. :P


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